


lumos, nox

by excelsior



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Harmony - Freeform, Hidden Feelings, Post DH, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelsior/pseuds/excelsior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The art of hiding feelings and passing blame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lumos, nox

She looked beautiful in lavender. He tells her so.

"Are you sure," but it is not a question. It's a statement dripping with disbelief, still some insecurity left over courtesy of being constantly reminded that she was a bushy-haired, buck-toothed, insufferable know-it-all when she was growing up.

"Yes." And there's no hesitation. In fact, if he was feeling poetic, he would spout some prose about how seeing her always made him feel like she's stealing a tiny bit of his heart that he's never going to get back.

But he is Harry Potter and she is Hermione Granger-but-soon-to-be-Weasley, and he has moral obligations that permit him from telling his best-friend-who-is-about-to-marry-his-other-best-friend that.

So instead he repeats, "You look beautiful in lavender, Hermione."

 

 

 

Harry Potter muses that it's funny, really, how affairs of the heart, which once seemed so mundane a catastrophe compared to the inevitable battle of good versus evil, became an absolute crisis once the war ended. After all, he spent the last seven years of his life trying to not die that he rarely had time to comprehend complex feelings of love and affection that simmered below the initial attraction to glossy-haired Chinese seekers and redheads who stroke his hair during quiet nights at the common room.

 

 

 

 **Where** : On the outskirts of the Burrow, in a dilapidated wooden bench.

 **When:** A week before the first post-war Weasley wedding in which two out of the Golden Trio are getting married.

 **Who:** The boy with the lightning-shaped scar, and the girl who knew that there were more important things than books and cleverness.

"Why are we here, Harry?"

"Nothing. I'll just, miss you that's all."

"Harry what are you talking about? Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. It's just that with your marriage, everything is about to change."

"No, it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it-"

"Oh come off it, Hermione! Maybe this sounds ridiculous but the thought of losing you it's unbearable. I can't think of a life without you always there, never leaving my side. People look at me and think I'm the hero but they're wrong. You are."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. You solve the puzzles, you make the plans, you brew the potions, you pack the clothes and the tents and the Muggle money, you keep us alive when all I ever did was lead us to death."

"I'm getting married, not dying!"

"And you know what that means, don't you? It's that I'm out of the picture and this sounds so childish but maybe I'm not ready to live without you! I'm not even sure I know how!"

"Honestly Harry, do you believe that?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then you don't know me as well as I think you do! Because if you think for one single second that I will stop looking out for you, stop worrying about where you are or how you're doing, stop thinking about how you're coping or if you're getting enough sleep or if you're eating properly, stop loving you like I have for fifteen years then-"

 **What:** The kiss that has long been coming.

"I shouldn't have done that. Hermione, please-"

And then, silence.

 

 

 

He meets up with Ron two days later for lunch, though the glaring fact that he just snogged his best mate's fiancee (who happened to be his best mate as well) was making this one of Harry's worst lunch dates ever- including the one he and Dudley had last year for 'closure'. He tries not to grimace as Ron asks him if he and Hermione were alright, because Hermione had been quiet lately and something seems off with Harry and her.

"Pre-wedding jitters!" He blurts out, then rubs his leg nervously. "I mean- that's what I read in Witch Weekly last week-"

Ron bursts out laughing. "Witch Weekly? Blimey Harry, you're not getting soft are you?"

He should've just told Ron the truth right there and then; Hermione's lips still ghost over his own, somehow even more painful a memory than the impossible dream it once was. His hands still remember how warm her face felt, made even warmer by the lone tear that snaked down her cheek and unto his palm. He should've just told Ron that despite the fact that it was such a colossal mistake, it didn't diminish the fact that kissing Hermione Granger was like, well, he couldn't describe it actually because nothing compares and he's not feeling quite poetic at the moment.

But he's a coward, so he just says- "The only ones getting soft here are your Chudley Cannons!"

"Why'd you have to bring that up? It's that lousy seeker of theirs. I told you..." Ron moans and drones on, while he plasters a fake grin over his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Brave, my ass. And they say he's a _true_ Gryffindor.

 

 

 

"Why didn't you fight for me?" She asks. Her face is pale and drawn, but her eyes shine with pent-up tears and barely-contained confusion. This is not how a bride-to-be is supposed to look like; she isn't supposed to look like she did ten years ago when it felt like the two of them were carrying the weight of the entire world on their shoulders, alone in a decrepit old tent with nothing but memories to haunt them and each other to keep.

"Because I couldn't." He says. He stares at her and drinks in the sight of her on the verge of tears, feeling the waves of regret and self-hate slam like a tsunami against the walls of his frantically beating heart. "Because I knew that if I did, I'll gain you but I'll lose everyone else. I'd lose Ron, I'd lose a mother, I'd lose the family who never hesitated to take me in even though all I ever did was lead them to danger. I couldn't lose them, not even for you."

"So I'm not worth it, then?" She just hurts all over. And the worst part is that she would still stitch up her heart and give it to him to break all over again, because even now, even after everything-

"Would you risk losing the Weasleys, Hermione?" His voice is pleading now, laced with anger and pain and restraint. "When were we ever that selfish? Did you even want to know? I didn't even know how you feel! How you would react!"

"That's because you never told me!" She's yelling now. Her hands shake something fierce and her nails are digging painfully into her palms. "What made you think to just bottle it up and shove it deep down, so you can spring it on me on the week before my fucking wedding? I nearly died for you, Harry! I erased my own parents' memory for you! I turned into a cat for you! I laid my entire life for you and you repay me by ruining my own?"

"I didn't know how much I loved you, Hermione." His voice breaks into a whisper. He slides down the dusty floor, and she does too because even now, even after everything- "I thought I saw you like a sister, but you don't fall in love with sisters. You don't spend every waking moment regretting all those moments you could've just told her you loved her when you had the chance. You don't feel an urge to strangle yourself that for the last seven years, you were so wrapped up in saving the world that you didn't realize that the girl who's been with you all along was someone you loved more than a sister." He looks at her, and takes her hand. She bites her lip and lets the tears flow, but she doesn't pull back. Because even now, even after everything-

"I won the war, Hermione. But I think I might've lost the most important battle of all."

 

 

_Dear Harry,_

_The wedding is tomorrow and I thought long and hard about the things you said. You were right. We were always so unselfish, weren't we? I realized that even if you had told me I still would've refused you, like I did last night. I do love Ron, I always have, but underneath the love I feel is some sort of obligation that he is the one I am supposed to end up with. You are the hero, Harry. Heroes don't get the girl they want- they get the awards, the recognition, the title, but something's got to be compromised and I'm afraid that's me._

_Thank you for telling me, even if it came at the most unfortunate of times. They say ignorance is bliss, but a truth unsaid will fester in a man's soul. Just keep in mind that I love you and nothing will ever change that. It may not be the kind of love that it could've been had you told me the truth all those years ago, but it is a great one still._

_When I marry Ron tomorrow, the world I know will change. But the way I feel about you, it never will. Because even now, even after everything, I still think of you as the most important thing in my life. More than books and cleverness, more than friendship and bravery. They say you are the boy who live, but to me you are the boy worth dying for._

_Love, Hermione_

 

 

 

She looks beautiful in lavender.

This time, he doesn't tell her because it's not his place to do so. It's Ron who says it, as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and slips the ring unto her finger.

Later, when the Weasley's front lawn is a cacophony of music and laughter, a flurry of skirts swirling in dance, and the night air is thick with chatter and love, he finds her hand and pulls her close for a dance.

There are no words between them, just contained feelings and unspoken promises.

She smiles, and he leans in to kiss her cheek. When he pulls back, her eyes are shining with tears but her smile looks hopeful. He thinks they should've just called him The Boy Who Lost because he feels that all he ever did was lose the people who loved him the most. But he hasn't lost Hermione, not really, because how can you lose someone who's a permanent fixture of your very being? He reminds himself that this is not the time for heartbreak and sadness and pondering over alternate universes where they need not be so unselfish all the time.

"I love you," she says, softly. And he doesn't know what to say, so he just borrows the word of a man who has also loved and lost, who became a prisoner of his memories and the possibility of a road not taken. He twirls her around then pulls her close, and just before he let's go-

"Always."

 

 

 

**fin.**


End file.
